


friend of a friend

by thelotusflower



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Break Up, College, College AU, Craig/Tweek - Freeform, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbreak, I promise, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, References to Drugs, Slow Burn, background bebe/clyde, creek - Freeform, kenny is not evil ok, past craig/kenny, tweek/craig - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelotusflower/pseuds/thelotusflower
Summary: Tweek Tweak has always just been a friend of a friend, around, but unnoticed. Craig's always been too focused on his boyfriend - or, uh, - ex- boyfriend to really pay any mind. Despite this, however, it ends up being Tweek Tweak, of all people, piecing Craig's broken heart back together.





	1. the party and the day after

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, so idk ? this idea just came to me and then i sort of rolled with it. let me know if you like it. i just love college au's ok.

He feels empty; more than empty - is there such a thing as  _ more  _ than empty? He feels infinitely empty, suddenly too aware of the vastness of the universe, and somehow feeling it all in between his ribcage. He’s always known to be just a speck of dust in the cosmos, meaningless and arbitrary, but it’s never felt so fit until now - now, or at least, the present tense of now being the last two or so weeks of his long, sad life.

 

His physics homework mocks him, sitting on the desk in front of him, demanding to be completed, even though it really doesn’t matter. None of it matters. It’s all just a pointless, repeating cycle of different woes, and a lifespan full of aching misery, all for nothing - all to just die alone and unremembered. 

 

He has no motivation to complete it, and no motivation to answer his phone when it rings off a second later.

 

A small, inkling part of him wonders - _ hopes  _ \- it’s  _ him _ , the  _ culprit  _ for all his anguish and torment. Every time his damned phone goes off, he hopes its him. It’s a stupid thing. Hope is a stupid thing, a completely impractical, misguiding thing that Craig  _ knows  _ better than to dwell in.  _ But,  _ it happens anyway. He  _ hopes _ . He even lets it ring for a while just to bask in the sudden, misleading, about-to-fall-of-a-cliff  _ feeling.  _

 

God, he’s so pathetic.

 

He picks up the phone, and his heart sinks when he sees the caller is not the person he wished it to be, ( _ hoped _ for.) He feels somehow more weighted down than he did previously, which doesn’t seem possible, but is. He declines the call of his friend and roommate, and turns his phone on silent.

 

He notices a couple text notifications from a group chat he’s in, and then another couple separate ones. He exits out of them, doesn’t look at them, and puts his phone face down, so he can’t see any notifications he’s getting.

 

He’s been ignoring his friends like he’s been ignoring his school work, and you could say it’s not healthy, and he’s probably completely destroying his life, but he honestly doesn’t really care. He’s too miserable to care about anything other than his own misery.

 

People always joked about him not having emotions. Well, look at him  _ now.  _

 

God.

 

After staring at his physics homework a little longer, and not at all  _ thinking  _ about his physics homework whatsoever, a loud, banging thud erupts at his door.

 

“ _ Craig _ !” the voice calls. 

His roommate is the only person he’s really talked to at all in the last two weeks, and it’s only because they  _ live  _ together; in separate rooms, thankfully, but still somehow unavoidable. 

 

“ _ Craig!  _ Bro! You are coming out of that room tonight. Phi Delt is throwing a  _ huge  _ rave. You are  _ fucking  _ coming. There will be a lot of dick there. Token said that one of the frat brothers is even gay this year, and he’s inviting a bunch of his gay friends. It’s basically going to be a huge butt-fuck orgy.”

 

Craig groans and face plants himself into his desk. He doesn’t know why he agreed to share a dorm  with Clyde again. Craig doesn’t know why  _ Clyde  _ continuously shares a dorm with him. Clyde is  _ literally  _ part of a frat, and  _ could  _ stay there, but  _ insists  _ he wants to dorm with his ‘ _ best bro’.  _ In fact, it’s part of the reason  Craig never suggested to dorm with -  _ fuck,  _ he’s thinking about  _ him  _ again. He guesses Clyde’s crying and whining came in handy, just this  _ one  _ time, considering the predicament now though.

 

“Please leave me alone.  _ Please.” _

 

“Dude, you will  _ thank  _ me for this. You’ll get so much  _ dick  _ you won’t even know  _ what  _ to do with it - or ass? Ass. I don’t know. I don’t know what you would say. I don’t know what you  _ do.  _ I don’t wanna know, but  _ for real, man,  _ you will  _ thank  _ me. Either way.”

 

“Clyde, you’re a  _ fucking  _ moron,” he fires up out of his seat to unlock his door, pulling it open to find Clyde stumbling on his feet since. He flips his middle finger up, “I literally only opened my door to do this. I will be closing it now,” he begins to shut it, but Clyde catches it and pushes himself in. 

 

In any  _ normal  _ situation, Craig could easily push him out of his room and close the door, no problem, but he finds no energy to do so and instead collapses on his bed. He stares at the ceiling, and pinches his nose.

 

“I am pretty sure you haven’t left this room in like two weeks. Have you even gone to classes, dude?”

 

He has. He’s gone to… a couple. Attendance doesn’t even count in a lot of them, so what is he  _ really  _ missing out on? Being miserable surrounded by people he hates for no apparent reason? He can just look at the power points and lectures online - which, admittedly, he has not kept up with so well, but… it’s really hard to care right now.

 

“Clyde don’t lecture me about attendance when you’ve skipped your 8 am numerous times, and spend almost little to no time actually studying for  _ anything. _ ”

 

“Hey, don’t be a dick, Craig,” Clyde argues. “I’m just trying to show my concern for you.”

 

“I don’t want your fucking concern,” he glares, sitting up. “I want you to get out of my goddamn room,” he grumbles.

 

Clyde’s leaning at his desk, arms crossed. He is frowning deeply, and Craig begs, if Gods are real, Clyde won’t start bawling. “Craig, I’ve never seen you like this.”

 

Craig groans, rolls his eyes, and looks away. He’s never  _ felt  _ like this. “I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to go anywhere. Why can’t you just let me have that?” he questions his friend, returning his stare.

 

Clyde huffs out a breath of air. “No. You are coming. I’ll bug you all day, man. I got time to kill. Like you said, I don’t study.”

 

Craig rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but lets out a grunt that signifies his submission. He really is too tired to argue. Also, at least this way he could get wasted. “I’m not staying long.”

 

Clyde claps his hands together, way too cheery and peppy, and lets out a, “fuck yes!” and then goes on and on for far too long about the festivities of the evening, which Craig really doesn’t pay any attention to.

  
  


*~*~*~*

  
  


Clyde looks fucking gay, wearing a holographic metallic blue t-shirt and skinny lime green pants. To top off the look, a floral SnapBack sits atop his head and yellow glow stick necklace is placed around his neck. He watches as Bebe, the girl whom he has somehow, in some  _ inexplicably _ way convinced to be his girlfriend for over two years, decorate his arms with glitter.  _ Jesus.  _ Fucking whipped.

 

Clyde bitched at him earlier, claiming his outfit was going to suck the life out of the party/rave. Craig doesn’t give a  _ shit _ , though. Let it. He doesn’t even want to go. He’s wearing his typical clothes, a blue t-shirt and jeans. He put on a purple glow stick necklace and that’s the absolute  _ most  _ he will do.

 

“All right, Craig, you’re next!” Bebe is suddenly coming at him now. He flinches, automatically jumping out of his seat. The venomous liquid inside it that consists of (mostly) Jack Daniels and coke swishes inside the red solo cup. 

 

“Fuck no! Get that shit away from me, Bebe.” 

 

His relationship with Bebe is fine. He thinks Bebe is a good girlfriend for Clyde; she’s smart and not super emotional; a good balance for him. Craig still isn’t going to be her best friend, though. Clyde has often requested he try harder to befriend her, to which, Craig rebutted with,  _ Is this because I’m gay? I think you’d feel differently about it if I were straight.  _ It shuts Clyde up. The Gay Card, although extremely cheap, is his ultimate weapon.

 

“Craig don’t be an ass,” Clyde immediately scolds, standing up. He puts a hand on Bebe’s shoulder and rubs it gently. “Don’t even waste it on him, babe. He doesn’t deserve it.”

 

Bebe rolls her eyes. “Craig, you’re like the  _ least  _ gay, gay guy I know.”

 

“Don’t stereotype me.” Craig argues in a deadpan. He shifts his gaze over to Bebe’s  _ Gay _ best friend, Tweek, who is leaning against the refrigerator nearby, silent, completely unhelpful of the gay community, apparently.

 

Yeah, that’s right. The straight love birds both have a  _ gay  _ best friend! They met at freshman orientation, where they both discovered this stupid, shared similarity, somehow bonding over it, and  _ well _ , the rest is history.

 

_ “ _ Help me out here, Tweek. Don’t let the straights win.”

 

Clyde and Bebe stare over at him expectantly. Bebe crosses her arms, giving him a  _ don't you dare side with him  _ kind of look. Tweek looks frazzled, but Craig supposes that is his ordinary expression. He itches the side of his neck nervously.

 

Craig ponders if this was a good play as he looks over the other boy’s _very_ gay outfit. He’s got this holographic, metallic, silver _,_ shorts on, with a rainbow tutu and rainbow suspenders to match, nothing covering his chest but glitter and gold. Lastly, his hair is pushed back with gel, and it looks like he spray painted it silver and pink for the night. Holy, _damn._ How did he not notice how flamboyant he was dressed before? They’ve been here pregaming for the last hour. Is Craig really that caught up in his own head? He takes another drink at the revelation, but discovers there is none left. The answer is yes, definitely yes, he decides.

 

“Well, augh, Craig’s got a point, B,” Tweek relents, looking mildly uncomfortable. “But,” of course there is a but. “This  _ is  _ a rave. Looking flamboyant and colorful is kind of the point.”

 

Craig just flips them all off and goes to grab another drink, as some of their other friends pile into their dorm until the room. When the room begins to feel claustrophobic, they head to the frat house. Craig considers backing out, but Clyde’s already made the promise to not go without him, so he sees no point.

  
  
  


*~*~*~*

  
  


EDM music blasts in his ear drums and strobe lights flash before his eyes. He is on his fifth of  _ whatever it is he is drinking _ , and everything feels way too wobbly and whirling. He doesn’t know where Clyde is, or any of his other friends, for that matter, but he is pretty certain he doesn’t even care about finding them. He just cares about  _ him.  _

 

Darkness set in around one or two drinks ago, and he can’t go back. He thinks he can feel an ache in his heart, and no matter how much liquid poison he swallows, the ache won’t soothe. He only knows one way to pacify it.

 

He pushes his way past some people, and stumbles outside to the front porch. A few people linger on it. Still too crowded, he strides past them, walking to the end of the stone path that leads up to the house. He pulls out his phone and immediately finds the contact, the stupid contact of his ex-boyfriend,  _ Kenny. _

 

That’s all it says now - Kenny. It used to have spirit. It had a orange and pink heart, and his favorite emoji, the middle finger. 

 

He presses the call button, too wasted to care if this certifies him as a pathetic, lonely, loser. It’s a Friday night: Kenny’s probably out, or stoned, both, probably. He picks up on the second ring, maybe third, Craig cannot really count right now. 

 

“Ken, hey,” Craig greets. “Oh my God! Baby, you picked up!”

 

Kenny sort of sighs. “Craig? It’s the middle of the night. You good?”

 

“I have not been good since you left me,” he complains. “I’ve been  _ miserable.  _ Don’t. Don’t even know what  _ good  _ feels like anymore.”

 

“You’re wasted,” he retorts a moment after.

 

“Doesn’t matter. Still true. Holy fuck. Holy  _ fuck,”  _ he feels it’s hard to breathe, listening to that raspy voice of his previous lover. “God. It’s so  _ good  _ to hear your voice. This is literally the  _ best  _ I’ve been in two weeks,” his voice catches and he isn’t sure if he is crying or not, or if the tears are from joy or despair. “I fucking miss you. I really. I really, fuck, oh my God, Kenny. I cannot - I  _ love  _ you.”

 

He hears a quiet sigh from the other line. “ _ Craig,  _ we broke up.”

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ this.” He argues. “You broke up with me!” He feels almost like a child, stomping his foot, not getting his way. He feels like a child - void of any control or ability to change anything. “You - you broke up with me.”

 

“Craig -  _ ugh  _ \- look, dude, be safe. I really gotta go.”

 

“No, wait -,”

 

The line goes dead. He is about to call again when someone calls out his name from the porch steps.

 

“Craig!” 

 

He looks over and finds Tweek Tweak striding up to him in that fucking rainbow tutu; his devoured hair: blond, pink, and silver, going up in all directions. He looks sweaty and somewhat tired. 

 

Craig turns away from him, gulping. He pushes his phone in his pocket to hide the evidence, and wipes away at his eyes - okay, yeah, he was for sure crying. “I’m heading home,” he announces, walking away.

 

For some reason, Tweek takes this as invitation to come up right beside him and walk with him. “You okay?” he inquires. 

 

Craig stays silent.  _ No.  _ Fucking no.

 

“I was on the porch, and ah, sort of saw you…,” 

 

“That fucking asshole ended our call. He ended our fucking call, and our fucking relationship, and fuck him!” He loses it.

 

Tweek is just staring, blinking, unsure what to say.

 

Craig plops down beside a tree and Tweek follows him, sitting cross legged near him. Craig wipes his eyes again, and fuck, when did he become Clyde?

 

“I’m sorry. Break ups are really hard.”

 

“We fucking dated for  _ four  _ years. Four fucking years! Who dates someone for  _ four  _ years, and then just, suddenly, drops them?” 

 

Tweek puts a hand on his shoulder a moment later, and Craig looks up at his frowning face and wide eyes. 

 

He sucks in a breath and lets it out. Tweek releases his hand. “That’s super shitty. Did he - _ augh  _ \- say why?” He inquires. 

 

He hasn’t even told Clyde this much detail - he just said Kenny broke it off with him, and he’s a giant piece of shit (a giant piece of shit he loves still.) “He said he wasn’t happy anymore, and neither was I, and we became different people when we came to college, and he is going to the Peace Corp after college for two years, so it probably would have happened anyway, and - God Damn, like he is just a fucking  _ martyr  _ because he knew I would never break up with him,” he lets out. He is breathing heavy again. He stares at the grass between his feet. He brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs, burying his head between his knees. He groans. “That fucking asshole is just an asshole. A self-righteous dickhead.”

 

A long time passes. He almost forgets Tweek is even there; forgets he is in public, silently crying in public, making a complete fool of himself. It’s a mix of alcohol and grief conducting his level of apathy towards looking like a pathetic mess. 

 

Then, finally, Tweek starts, “I was so in love with this guy in high school. He was in the closet, but he would mess around with me all the time. He told me he loved me, too, but he never came out, and then, eventually, he just broke it off. He said it would never really work out because he was never going to come out.” Tweek sucks in a breath. Craig finally picks his head up to give a good look at the boy next to him. He has his head hung low and looks sullen, his eyes downcast. He tugs at the grass. “Every time I tried to even  _ talk  _ to him, he acted like he didn’t even know me - like he wanted nothing to do with me. Rrrrrr, it was like he flipped a switch. He, nnngh, just shut off any feelings for me,” he meets Craig gaze. Craig blinks, feeling the intensity of Tweek’s stare. “I didn’t think I would ever want to love anyone else, or would be able to, but I think I’m okay now.”

 

Craig frowns, an involuntary reflex. He doesn’t break eye contact. 

 

He met Tweek freshmen year, before Clyde and Bebe officially got together. He has never paid much mind to him before. He’s always known the obvious - the boy’s addiction to coffee, his occasional twitches and sped up speech. He’s always had a nervous, jittery nature to him, always seeming to be freaking out about s _ omething,  _ or another. And of course, he noticed the boy was handsome - is handsome the right word? It felt wrong, but right.  _ Kenny  _ is handsome, hot, well chiseled, and straight up,  _ beautiful.  _ Tweek is something else.  _ Different.  _ He was wild, and unkempt, but somehow managing to pull it off better than anyone ever could. He made wrinkled shirts and lost buttons look fashionably acceptable. His face was soft, not chiseled, like Kenny’s, but smooth and well sloped. 

 

Not to mention, his  _ body.  _ The guy boxed, and it  _ showed,  _ especially  _ tonight,  _ where all that’s placed at his chest are suspenders.

 

Kenny often talked about how hot he was. It was  _ honestly  _ annoying. It made Craig sort of dislike Tweek even, where did  _ he  _ get the right to be called hot by his boyfriend? Then, one day, Kenny straight up, went up to Tweek, and said he was watching him:  _ “in appreciative way, for sure, but also… I don’t really trust you kind of way. It’s just you are hot and gay, and kind of around my boyfriend a lot it seems. I’d be wary of anyone.”  _ After that, he no longer felt the irrational dislike towards Tweek, and instead, sort of felt bad his boyfriend was an asshole and made him feel so awkward around him. After that, they didn’t really talk too much, not that they did so much so before, but even less after.

 

“Well, have you, uh, love anyone? Since?”

 

Tweek jerks a little at this. He scratches his neck. “Ah - mmm - no, no, not really, but,” he shrugs. “I just - it’s not because I’m scared anymore, it just  _ hasn’t  _ happened. It doesn’t hurt anymore though.” He claims. “It used to hurt to think about, and I was so scared, but I’m not anymore.”

 

Craig just nods, his eyes filtering away into the lost unknown. He can’t imagine this weighing ache inside his chest ever floating away. He can’t imagine ever being strong enough to pull up the anchor Kenny left inside him; he is just going to sink down with it. 

 

“He is the only guy I’ve ever been with,” he concludes. “We got together at  _ sixteen.  _ I had a girlfriend before that, and… a crush on this one kid, but that’s it. I’ve…  _ he’s  _ it.”

 

“You’re only twenty, man. You have a whole life time.”

 

That just makes it feel worse. A lifetime to sink. He rests his head back against the tree behind him. He can feel Tweek staring. He lets himself cry anyway, the sob escaping him like the warmth Kenny once brought him. He covers his face in his hands. “Fuck this. Fuck him.”

 

“You want me to walk you back to your dorm, man?” Tweek offers.

 

Craig lets out a  _ sure  _ and lets the blond boy help him up. He feels wobbly and unstable. He isn’t sure if it is the booze or heartache.

 

The walk is long and sort of quiet. He sort of stumbles a couple of times, and Tweek catches him. Tweek makes sures he gets into his dorm and then leaves him alone. He asks if he wants him to stay, but Craig says no. He just wants to go to sleep, and that’s what he does.

  
  


*~*~*~*

 

He wakes up the next morning, a sense of shame and melancholy overtaking him before he can even opt to open his eyes. 

 

Everything is as bad as it was the day previous; worse, even. He called his ex-boyfriend and fell apart in front of his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend.  _ Awesome. _

 

He isn’t sure if he can ever leave his room again out of pure humiliation. Is that worse than depression? He doesn’t know, but he can forsure see himself hiding in his room for another full two weeks because of last night’s previous incident.

 

He barely remembers; just his crying, mostly, Tweek being there, walking him home. He remembers being on the phone with Kenny and him hanging up. He doesn’t know what he said - he isn’t sure if he wishes to recall the conversation or if he hopes it stays blocked out from his memory forever.

 

He  _ never  _ cries in front of people, never c _ ries,  _ and last night, who even the fuck  _ knows,  _ who else saw. Tweek Tweak definitely did though.

 

Why the fuck did he even care? Why was he listening to him: pity, for sure. He honestly is pretty sure Tweek doesn’t even like him that much: indifferent, at best to him. Bebe is not exactly psyched about him as a person, and with Kenny basically threatening him that one time, he’s pretty sure he lost the opportunity to ever one day call Tweek a friend.

 

If it wasn’t for Tweek, the thought crosses his mind, what would have happened to him last night? Maybe he would have tried to get to his dorm on his own and be ran over by one of the security vans - he cannot decide if that would have been better. Maybe he would have humiliated himself further and ran back into the party with tears streaming down his face, looking for Clyde. He doesn’t know what the Craig of last night was capable of. Maybe he would have fucking trotted over to Kenny’s dorm.  _ Fuck.  _

 

So, maybe the situation could have been worse than it was.

 

He supposes he should thank Tweek, but honestly, cannot picture himself facing him right now. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even have his number -  _ snapchat,  _ yes, but  _ number, no.  _ That’s personal. That’s something you don’t have when your boyfriend - ex, now, - is a jealous, insane, piece of shit.

 

He blames Kenny for this, and then immediately feels guilty for doing so, but he just feels so… awful. 

 

It’s the hangover, sure, but the heartache still manages to fuck with him the most.

 

Kenny said, “I want us to remain on good terms. Please, please, don’t hate me for this, Craig.”

 

How is he ever supposed to get over him if he doesn’t hate him, though? If he doesn’t write him off as this piece of shit, selfish, asshole? 

 

He picks up his phone, which is on the floor next to his bed. 

 

It’s 12 : 34 pm, and he has exactly (1) message from Clyde.

 

 _Clyde 2 : 46 am:_ _tweek told me u left. Love u homie. Might sleep at Bebe’s tn._

 

Oh  _ God.  _

 

He wonders what Tweek told Clyde. Did he tell him he cried? Did he tell him about the call to  Kenny? 

 

It’s not that he’d be embarrassed if he  _ did  _ tell him: Clyde’s done  _ way  _ too many humiliating things in his time of knowing him to ever feel embarrassed around, but he knows Clyde will never stop prodding into his life if he finds out he is so unwell. He’ll also maybe even cry because he opened up more to Tweek, instead of his best friend of twelve years. 

  
  


He figures it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. Whatever Tweek told Clyde - or Bebe for that matter, considering she’ll spill everything to Clyde instantly - is out there. 

 

He supposes he could  _ ask  _ Tweek. Send him a snap, considering he doesn’t have his number, but the idea of contacting him sends a wave of humiliation through his body and brings him a deep sense of shame to his core, so he ultimately decides against it.

 

He lays in bed on his phone until his stomach growls and he forces himself to get up and go to the kitchen, which is vacant of Clyde, or anyone else for that matter. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here at all since yesterday, red solo cups scattered round, trash on the floor. Usually Craig is a lot neater than this and avoids living in a garbage dump, but he has very little motivation to clean any of it up right now.

 

His appetite’s been poor lately. He’s lost several pounds since the break up, and he only knows this because his pants are loose on him. He’s smoked weed a couple times just to get an appetite going, in fact.

 

Today, he settles with some of Clyde’s  _ Lucky Charms _ . He grabs a bowl from the cupboard and milk from the fridge, and prepares himself a bowl of cereal before sitting down at their tiny, circular, two seater table. 

 

When he is nearly done, just discolored milk left, the door bursts open, revealing Clyde.

 

Craig freezes, his spoon falling into the bowl. He looks down immediately at the off-white milk in his bowl and pushes it away. 

 

“Hey, dude, howdy, ho. I didn’t expect to see you up.”

 

Craig turns his face to him. “It’s like one in the afternoon.”

 

Clyde takes a seat at the other side of the table, draping his arms across the table top. He peers into the bowl. “And e _ ating,  _ no less.  _ Damn.” _

 

Craig pauses, trying to infer what his roommate is saying. Sure, he hasn’t eaten much lately and has been sleeping in quite a lot, but has it really become that big of an issue? “Well, since I’m a human, that  _ is  _ one of the requirements,” he decides to reply dryly.

 

Clyde waves him off with a small chuckle. “I just mean . . . damn, I expected you to have more of a hangover. Tweek said you puked.”

 

_ Did  _ he? He doesn’t remember, but then again, he doesn’t remember much.

 

Clyde stares at him a moment before asking, “that is why you left right?” 

 

Is that really all Tweek told him - he got sick and left?

 

“Uh, yeah,” he decides to roll with it. Maybe Tweek didn’t out him.

 

Clyde smirks. “Gotta learn to handle your liquor, buddy.” He punches him the shoulder from across the table. Craig retaliates by punching him in the opposite shoulder, receiving a loud  _ OW  _ from the boy across from him. 

 

Craig flips him off. “You’ve puked way too many times to ever have the right to say that.”

 

Clyde is rubbing his shoulder. “Ah, whatever, man. Still funny.” He lets go of his shoulder. 

 

Craig gets up and goes to put his bowl in the sink. He is still stuck on the thought of Tweek covering his ass -  _ why _ ? He is merely just a friend of a friend, frankly not owing him  _ shit,  _ and yet, listened to him cry and covered his ass? Is Tweek really just that nice of a guy?   
  


“Did you have fun at least - if you puked, you must have.”

 

Craig puts away the _ Lucky Charms  _ box he left out. Did he have fun? No.

 

“Sure.”

 

“I’ll take that,” Clyde says. 

 

Craig returns to his room shortly after the conversation is over and begins his homework he’s put off for the past two weeks.

  
  
  


*~*~*~*

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. an observation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback :) This chapter is kind of short but I hope you enjoy it! (It is also in Tweek’s POV)

Someone throws a flyer at him for some rally about social justice, which he briefly considers going to, before his attention is taken elsewhere -  _ the boy hanging it out.  _ It is no one other than Kenny McCormick. 

 

It seems to dawn upon Kenny at the same moment, his eyes sparkling and rising, in that all knowing way. “Oh. Tweek! Heya. How ya doing? You coming to this?” He points down at the flyer in his hand, the paper creasing.

 

Tweek fumbles, unsure how to really reply, feeling quite awkward about the situation. Just a couple days ago he was comforting a crying Craig about Kenny breaking his heart. What are the  _ odds  _ he runs into Kenny? He shrieks a little.

 

Kenny puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, dude. I just want to say,” he looks down. Kenny is tan and his eyelashes are longer than normal boys’. His cheeks almost look like he’s dusted them in highlighter. Maybe he has. His eyes are back up at him in brief second, and Tweek feels embarrassed studying him so intensely. “I’m sorry if I was ever a jerk. I know I could be jealous and possessive with Craig. You didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t you.”

 

Wow. Tweek was  _ not  _ expecting that. Kenny threatened him so long ago; he honestly figured Kenny forgot about it. Kenny lets go of his shoulder, and Tweek gives him a sort of, half-lips-closed-kind-of smile. “It’s fine. No worries, man.”

 

“Cool!” Kenny smile widens, showing his teeth. “Hope you’ll come to the event then!” 

 

Tweek nods, glancing at the flyer in his hands. “Yeah. Maybe.”

 

Then Kenny waves at him and turns his attention to another passer byer, and Tweek is waving back even though he is no longer paying attention.

 

He walks with the flyer in his hands, thinking about the way Kenny sounded and seemed and smiled - and he seems so much better than Craig it almost feels like that can’t be Craig’s Kenny at all. How could one person be so miserable while the other just seems  _ fine?  _

 

He supposes Kenny didn’t get dumped - Craig did, but they were still in such a long relationship, it seems like Kenny should not be so energetic and lively, glowing even. 

 

The whole thing kind of makes him feel ill, for some reason or another.

 

They always seemed  _ so,  _ extremely happy - bound together at the hip and in their separate little world, where no one else could possibly matter. That is why when Kenny came up to him that day - denouncing Tweek as a possible threat to the couple’s relationship and that he’d be watching him - Tweek was  _ shocked.  _ He, in  _ no _ way, would ever want to get in between those two. 

 

There was a time, before his knowledge of Kenny, before Bebe began dating Clyde, Tweek thought Craig was cute.

 

It’s Bebe’s fault,  _ really _ .

 

She came home from freshman orientation, texting some new guy (Clyde) who had a gay best friend (Craig) that Bebe was just  _ adamant  _ in setting Tweek up with. She wasn’t aware of Kenny, wasn’t aware of even  _ who  _ Craig was or  _ what  _ he looked like - all but knew a name,  _ Craig.  _

 

Bebe was determined to find someone for him after getting his heart broken, the year prior. Tweek still didn’t feel ready to date - especially a random boy, who he only knew two things about: a name and sexual orientation, but that didn’t stop Bebe. Once she is determined to do something, she doesn’t stop. 

 

So, for the rest of the summer, the little weeks that remained, Bebe texted Clyde, sharing information about their two gay best friends. 

 

Every time Bebe learned something about him worth sharing , she’d send screenshots, or if she was with him, squeal and scream.

 

Tweek doesn’t remember much of it. He remembers a couple things, though: 

 

He has a pet guinea pig that he cherishes more than anything in the world.

 

He is a big space nerd.

 

He is a “grumpy grouch.”

 

Tweek doesn’t remember much of what Bebe told him, but he remembers  _ actually,  _ sort of, feeling a sense of excitement at the the thought of meeting Craig.

 

Then, then, Bebe  _ had  _ to show him a picture she found on Clyde’s Facebook, which was of the boy, Craig. And he was -   _ is, he supposes? - _ cute. So, Tweek,  _ naively _ , developed a crush on the guy. 

 

Then, he discovered  _ Kenny. _

 

Craig didn’t have a Facebook, or he did, but it was from when he was probably twelve years old. It was a pain in the ass to find him on Instagram - and once he did, he found his account to be on  _ private.  _ Tweek stalked Clyde’s page a little deeper, just to come across more photos of his crush he never met - and that is when he came across Kenny.

 

It was a picture of the three of them - Kenny, Clyde, and Craig. The caption was something about third-wheeling. It was an old pic, a couple years dated back at the time, so Tweek thought,  _ maybe,  _ it was just old - Craig was single. Bebe has to know his relationship status after weeks of retaining so much information about the guy.

 

But then, Tweek clicked on Kenny’s page, and there were pictures of Craig everywhere, from just days prior - all of them happy and mushy and cute.

 

Tweek sent a screenshot to Bebe that day of his page, adding “Craig has a boyfriend,” as if it wasn’t obvious. She replied with a sad face and confessed she found out a few days prior and that’s why she stopped pushing it. 

 

It was just a stupid crush though. It didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t too hurt by it - more so, disappointed.

 

Bebe ended up actually really liking Clyde though, even though she had no intention of that, so it all turned out well. Tweek has been sworn to secrecy about it all though - she doesn’t want Clyde to feel bad about her using him. Tweek doesn’t have a problem keeping his mouth shut about this, considering it keeps his once-secret-crush on Craig unknown.

 

He wonders if he is doing any better now. It’s been a few days since the party. He texted Clyde about it - telling him Craig got sick, and he walked him back to the dorm to make sure he was okay. He figured Craig would appreciate that more than telling Clyde the truth - he was a sobbing, heart-broken mess.

 

He briefly considers messaging Craig on Snapchat - just to ask if he is doing okay, or better, or just wants to talk more, maybe tell him about Kenny. 

 

Ultimately, he decides against it though. They are not close. The other night was an exception. It probably would be  _ weird  _ if he said anything - Craig probably wants to be left alone, anyhow, and not bothered by some guy who is basically just an acquaintance. He has Clyde looking after him, anyhow. 

 

So he doesn’t do anything - instead just continues about his day, crumpling up the flyer Kenny gave him and throwing it into his cluttered backpack, forgetting of the situation completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) leave your thoughts!! don’t worry there will def be some creek interaction next chapter, but I felt comfortable leaving it there for this chapter

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i love kenny. i will not make him the bad guy, even if it seems that way now. :) leave me your thoughtssss maybe?


End file.
